


Rarepair Drabbles & Ficlets

by heyitsamorette (AmoretteHD)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Bets & Wagers, Blow Jobs, Butt Plugs, Dark!Snape, Dubious Consent, First Love, First Time Blow Jobs, Heartbreak, M/M, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Rare Pairings, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-12
Updated: 2018-05-26
Packaged: 2019-05-05 14:48:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14620956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmoretteHD/pseuds/heyitsamorette
Summary: This is a collection of drabbles and ficlets of around 1k or less. Each chapter will list the pairing and any relevant information about content.





	1. Contents

### Chapter Number:

1\. Contents

[2\. Ron/Cormac](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14620956/chapters/33789567)

[3\. Harry/Charlie](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14620956/chapters/33838761)

[4\. Snape & Draco](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14620956/chapters/34142066)


	2. Lost Bet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Ron/Cormac**  
>  **Prompt used:** Buttplug worn under clothing  
>  **Content:** dubious-consent  
>  **Word Count:** 780
> 
> Thank you N for the look-through!

Cormac slammed Ron back against the hard, cold tiles of the locker room wall. There was a hint of a smirk on his stupid face, and Ron shot him his best glare, baring his teeth; it only made Cormac’s smirk stretch wider. Then Cormac flipped him around so he was facing the wall, and Ron bracketed his hands against the tile. Cormac’s warm breath hit the shell of his ear, sending a shiver down his spine.

“You’re not going to go back on your word, are you?” Cormac said, his voice posh and entitled and everything Ron hated. 

Cormac was just as tall as him, but he was still bigger and wider. If anyone was built to be a Beater, it was him. Thick biceps and thicker chest, with strong shoulders and a square jaw. Ron had gained some muscle over the years—especially now playing for the Stallions and training nearly everyday—but he wasn’t stronger than Cormac. He didn’t know if he could even get out of Cormac’s grasp now if he wanted to; and that thought made a bubble of panic grow rapidly in his chest; made him flex his fingers, only for Cormac to tighten his grip around Ron’s wrists. Ron’s cock stirred in his Quidditch leathers, and he cursed the traitorous thing. 

One of Cormac’s hands left his wrist and tugged on his hair. “Answer me, Weasley.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Ron said. “We took a Wizard’s Oath, it’s not like I could back out now, could I?”

“No, you couldn’t. Not unless you want a face full of boils for the next month; and those tend to leave scars…” 

“Then why don’t you just get on with it?” he snapped, the thought of what _it_ was making his arse clench involuntarily.

“Because I want you to ask for it.”

Ron’s blood spiked. “Are you kidding me?”

Cormac’s free hand traveled lower, his fingers dragging along the side of Ron’s torso and sending prickles of heat along in their wake. He tugged on the laces of Ron’s trousers and the knot unraveled. 

“You don’t want to suffer the consequences, do you?” Cormac asked. 

“You’re not kidding…”

“And if I decide not to administer your punishment,” Cormac said, pausing to chuckle, clearly enjoying himself very much, “then you’ll have to, won’t you?”

“McLaggen, don’t be a bastard.” He didn’t mean for it to come out like a subtle plea.

“So you’re going to have to ask me for it.”

“You’re a prick.” 

Cormac’s chest rumbled against Ron’s back as he continued to laugh softly. He had managed to get Ron’s trousers open, and he stepped back to be able to pull them down over the swell of Ron’s arse. Ron felt the cool air on his skin as the trousers slid down his thighs and caught at his knees. 

“Well?” Cormac said. “I don’t hear you.”

Ron exhaled hard through his nose, shutting his eyes tight. He was going to have to do it, Cormac was right. And he knew Cormac was serious, too. He wasn’t going to let Ron off easy. He was going to drag this thing out as slowly and wickedly as he could, to wring as much humiliation from Ron as possible.

His jaw tight, Ron forced the words out. “Would you… plug me?”

He heard Cormac suck in a breath through his teeth. “Damn, that was nice. But it wasn’t good enough.”

“What do you want me to say?” Ron lashed out, his cheeks and neck burning so hot he was sure he was bright red. 

He explained slowly and carefully. “I want you to say: Cormac, would you please put that plug up my arse?”

Ron swallowed as the words traveled through him and clung to different places inside him. They made his chest burn with indignation; his gut clench with embarrassment; and his cock harden to half-mast because it was a dirty fucking traitor. 

“Cormac…” His voice was gruff, like it was sticking to his throat because it didn’t want to come out. “Would you… _please_ … put the plug in my arse.”

Cormac groaned. He let go of Ron’s wrists completely as both hands went to Ron’s arse, taking ahold of his cheeks and giving them a rough squeeze. Ron remained standing with his arms up and his palms flat against the tiles; he didn’t think he could move now if he wanted to. 

Without finesse, Cormac pulled Ron’s cheeks apart and exposed his arsehole to the chilly air of the locker room. Ron clenched again. 

“And how long will you wear it?” 

His heart was racing and his head spun. “All day,” he said. 


	3. First Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry/Charlie  
> Prompt: 'Wasn't I worth the time?'  
> Content: angst, blow jobs, pining, heartbreak  
> Word Count: 226

Harry remembers Charlie’s cock in his mouth and something hot and heavy wells up in his chest. It’s part rage and part agony, fighting a battle behind his ribcage. And still, he remembers. It was the first—the only—cock he ever sucked, ever worshipped. Even now when he’s torn apart, he remembers the taste of Charlie’s precome and he craves it. His mouth salivates instinctively, and he wishes Charlie could appreciate how _good_ he was. How good he became at it. For him. How much he worked at hollowing his cheeks out and sucking hard on the shaft, at running his tongue along the underside, tasting his hot, pink skin; at not gagging; at sucking his balls. 

He remembers Charlie’s arms, strong and sure from wrangling the most dangerous creatures in the world. The first man who pinned him down to the mattress. Who fucked him. Who fell asleep on top of him. Harry could never fight his way out; could never pry aside the bulging bicep from around his chest. And he never felt more safe in his entire fucking life. 

But Harry wasn’t Charlie’s first anything, and certainly not his only. Charlie was as wild as his dragons and impossible to wrangle. And even though Harry had never wanted to tame him, he couldn’t help but think, 'Wasn't I worth the time?'


	4. The Promise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Snape/Draco**  
>  **Content:** No sexual contact, Draco is 16, dark!Snape, voyeurism, non-con vibes even though there's no sex  
>  **Word Count:** 337

He had given his word to Narcissa: he would watch over Draco for her while the boy completed his task. And so that’s what Severus did. He watched. 

As the boy grew older, he looked more and more like his father. He had the same sharpness in his features, the same haughty stance. The same insufferable attitude. And yet there was something in his eyes, a softness, a depth, that was undeniably Narcissa. 

Draco was beautiful. Of course having to listen to him speak always scraped like chalk on Severus’s nerves, but when he kept his mouth shut he was absolutely stunning to look at. Severus often imagined shutting him up in a particularly lascivious way. Whenever he had to listen to the boy’s stupid whinging and ranting, Severus blocked him out by picturing that mouth stuffed and salivating and choking.

“What are you smirking at?” Draco spat. “I don’t need you judging me, Snape. You’re supposed to be helping and all you’ve done so far is be utterly useless to me. Didn’t my father tell you….”

Severus just smiled serenely as he blocked out the rest of the brat’s incessant whinging and imagined Draco on his knees... gagging. 

“Stop. Smiling.” Draco grit his teeth. 

With a deep breath, Severus clasped Draco’s shoulder—yes, a bit hard on purpose—and turned Draco around. “The stress of the assignment is getting to you, Draco. Why don’t you take the night off and unwind, hm? A nice long bath in the prefect’s bathroom would be just the thing, wouldn’t it?”

“Yes… Yes, I am feeling very uptight. It’s what happens when _he_ favours you, you know. He gives you important things to do. It’s a lot of responsibility.”

“Mmm.”

“I suppose one night off might help me think straight tomorrow.”

“A wise man knows doing less sometimes helps him do more.” 

Draco nodded. “Yes, yes. That’s right.” 

As soon as he dropped him off at the prefect’s bath, Severus rolled his eyes and cast a Disillusionment charm on himself.


End file.
